A Convenient Arrangement
by TigerLily888
Summary: AU. Victorian England, where purity and morality reigns, two individuals meet in a place devoid of the two. What happens when identities which were previously hidden become exposed when their paths converge? For saturdayslump.
1. Chapter 1

**This fic is dedicated to my lovely friend saturdayslump, whose birthday is coming up. Please be warned that it contains explicit material which is only suitable for mature audiences. **

**I do apologise for the short chapter, but it has just worked out that way, and it will also make it easier for me to update due to familial responsibilities ie. baby and children duties!**

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_This story is a work of fiction by an amateur writer and is for entertainment purposes only. The writer is in no way associated with Criminal Minds nor anyone connected to the program. No Copyright infringement is intended and no monetary compensation has been received by the creation of this story._

_All publicly recognized characters and storylines are owned by The Mark Gordon Company, Paramount/Viacom, Touchstone Television, CBS Television Studios, ABC Studios, and their related entities._

_All original characters, settings and/or storylines are Copyright protected.__ Any duplication or distribution of this story, in whole or in part, expressly prohibited without written consent of the Author._

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"Sir! Sir!"

Hotch looked up from the item of evidence he had been perusing with a magnifying glass. "Yes, Constable?"

Constable Anderson looked anxious. "There's a lady here to see you, Sir. A Lady Emily Prentiss."

Hotch frowned. "What is it in relation to?"

"She says she may have some pertinent information in relation to Mr Barron's death, sir."

"I see. Show her in."

Hotch stood up, raising his eyebrows when Anderson hesitated. "What is it, Constable?" He tried to keep the impatience out of his voice. The case had been perplexing and complex, and he had had barely eight hours sleep in the last three days. To make matters worse, his right hand man was not on hand to assist him. To say he was nearing the end of his tether was a slight understatement.

"She is uh, a mighty fine lady, Sir."

Hotch glared at his subordinate. "I beg your pardon, Anderson?" he bit out. "Have some respect, man."

"Oh! No, no, I did not mean, uh…" Anderson blushed redder than a beet. "I meant she is the daughter of the _Marquess_ of Knightsbridge, sir."

"All right, thank you, Constable." Hotch resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Anderson made it sound as if the queen herself had deigned to visit their humble station in Bethnal Green. "And if that is the case, it is probably best that you don't keep her waiting longer than you already have, don't you think?"

"Yes, sir. Absolutely, sir!" With that, Anderson rushed out of the room.

Hotch walked towards to door in anticipation, glancing back at the state of his desk. It was strewn with papers and reference books, as well as a variety of daggers. His visitor was doubtless going to think him a disorganised in deed, and therefore in thought, but it was too late now.

"Sir, this is Lady Emily Prentiss."

"Inspector Hotchner." The low, melodious voice struck a chord in his heart which he had thought had been long dead and buried.

But it was her face that caused him to still. It was the face that had haunted his dreams and his every waking thought. It was a face that he had never expected to see again. For the first time in recent memory, he was struck speechless. As his eyes took in the finely carved patrician features of her face and the eyes that were blacker than the darkest night, he could see that she too, had recognised him.

The polite smile that had graced her mouth slowly faded as her lips parted in shock.

"Uh…" Anderson's head whipped back and forth between the two, eyes wide. "I'll just leave now, sir."

When the dark haired couple ignored him, he quickly left, closing the door behind him and shrouding the room in near silence.

Hotch stared, completely entranced as a blush softly coloured her porcelain skin, impossibly accentuating the utter perfection of her face. "It's you," she whispered, her gaze locked with his.

He finally recovered his voice, though not his thoughts. "Yes," he replied simply.

Images tumbled through his mind as if a jumble of photographs were being scattered about him. There, at the back of that crowded room at Madame Sagnier's, the most infamous brothel in London where debauchery was rife and where its members were known for their sexual excesses, was where he had last seen that same face, her red, red lips a mere whisper away from his. A red lace mask lay around her eyes, but it had done nothing to disguise them, so close were their proximity that the delicate scent of jasmine, warmed by her body lay heavy in his nostrils.

Even as the memory came to him, that familiar scent was again upon him, and just like before, his manhood responded, hardening instantly. And despite his rational mind knowing precisely how inappropriate it was, at that very moment, he would have done anything to have her in his bed and under him. So desperate was his need for her that he did not need to look at himself to know that desire was etched upon his features and blazed fiercely from his eyes.

Exactly as it had that night.

What he did not anticipate were the words that came from those soft lips. They shocked him even though he had heard almost those exact words a month ago.

"I still want you."

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**Sorry! For the cliffhanger that is. More to come very soon, I promise. It'll be my priority. In the meantime, do leave me a review if you can, I'd love to hear what you thought of the start of this fic.**


	2. Chapter 2

**What exactly happened that night? Here's the first part. More later, I promise.**

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_One month ago…_

Emily stepped out of the hansom cab, making sure that the hood of her cloak kept her face in shadow. It would not do to be seen, although in this part of London, it would be extremely surprising for a passer-by to recognise her. But she remembered her friend's admonishment to keep her features hidden. There would be members of the peer at the brothel this evening, and she could still be recognised by one of them, despite her absence from society for the last two years. It was the reason why she had brought along a mask with her.

She stood outside the back door, giving the name she and the Madame had pre-arranged to the man who answered her knock. Her voice shook slightly and she reflexively straightened her spine. A lady must never show her emotions. She could still hear her governess' voice even though her schoolroom days were long past. Emily almost smiled. If only Miss Kingsley could see her now, poised to enter a brothel. Even the strongest smelling salts would not have revived her.

"This way, miss." A young red-haired serving maid led her through the kitchen and down the hallway to a small parlour. "Madame will be along shortly." Curtsying, she left Emily, and closed the door behind her.

Even with the door closed, Emily could hear a loud hum of conversation from further down the hallway. Nervous anticipation made her stomach churn making her glad that she had decided not to have any dinner before she came. She looked around the small room, trying to distract herself from her nerves, but had barely glanced around when the door opened.

"Emmy?"

Emily whirled around, her eyes opening wide. "Pene?"

The two women stared at each other for a long moment, before they threw their arms around each other, laughing while they embraced.

"Oh, oh my goodness, Em, I never thought I would see you again," exclaimed Penelope, stepping back slightly so she could look at her companion. "You haven't changed one bit!"

"You, in the meantime, are almost unrecognisable!" retorted Emily, drinking in the sight of her friend. "You look magnificent." The young girl she had known from her childhood, who had bemoaned the fact that she would never have any womanly curves had become exactly the woman that she wished to be, and more. She was dressed resplendently in a jade green gown which showed off her voluptuous figure to perfection. Emeralds glinted at her ears and fingers, exhibiting how successful her business was.

"Thank you, my sweet. It's all a façade, you know. I still like to curl up in bed reading all those unliterary works, if you know what I mean," winked Pene. She linked her arm with Emily's and led her out the door, towards the stairs. "Remember all those novels we would pour over and laugh about when we were young?"

"As if I would forget." Pene had been the niece of the Prentiss' household cook, who had taken her in after her parents had died from influenza. Cook had thought she would have had to leave her position, but fortunately, the Marquess and Marchioness had been gracious enough to allow Pene to come and live with them. This turned out to be marvellous for Emily, who finally had a friend her age to play with, easing the loneliness of being an only child. They had lost touch when Pene married at sixteen.

"I never said so in your letters, Pene, but …" Emily hesitated as her friend led her into a bedroom, "… are you happy? Living this life?"

"Oh, my dear, sweet Em." Pene took and hands and squeezed them hard. "You know that times have been difficult for me in the past, what with that rotten scoundrel that I married and what I've had to do to survive after he passed. But I have learned to persevere, and have taken advantage of what I learnt while I was with my previous employer, and here I am now. I am my own person, and there is no one who can tell me what to do. I am very happy."

"I am so pleased to hear that, Pene. I wish, though, that you had come to me when you had lost your husband. I would have helped you."

Pene smiled. "I know, dearest. But you were newly married yourself. And I do not think that the Earl of Pennington would have been pleased to finance his daughter-in-law's cook's niece, however good friends we were."

"Are. We are still friends, are we not?" Emily looked searchingly at her companion. "Even after all this time?"

"Always. I still cannot believe we have found each other again. It seems like a dream."

"Well, if I hadn't tried to help that poor old soul who had a fall, I won't have met you when we returned to her lodgings. I wish, though, that we could have visited each other." Of course, that was impossible.

"Never mind, we can still write to each other. And look at us now. It's so good to see you, my sweet." Pene sighed and looked regretfully at her. "Time is short I'm afraid, and you, Lady Emily, you will need to change into something a little more appropriate for this evening's festivities."

Emily was not expecting this. "I do?"

Pene's eyes narrowed as she looked assessingly at Emily. "You will attract no gentleman in that gown, my dear. Why, the only part of you that I can see are your face. And we must show off that magnificent bosom of yours."

Emily felt heat rush to her face. "M..my bosom?" Whatever did her friend mean?

"Do not worry, the bodice of this gown isn't cut indecently low. You will certainly not be dressed anything like my girls. It will just be a little suggestive." Pene frowned when Emily bit her lip, looking dubious. "What is it? Have you changed your mind? Because you needn't do this, you know."

"Oh, I know. I just … ever since Benton died, I have felt like I have been imprisoned in this gilded cage that is my life. Benton's family is very kind to me, but I am not one of them, and so I prefer to spend my time in the country estate where there is no one I can talk to, not really. Things would have been so different if we had had a child, but it wasn't meant to be. I just feel so empty, Pene. I need something to make me feel alive again. Some excitement. And …" Emily felt another blush warm her cheeks.

"And a man's touch." Pene nodded sagely and laughed when Emily gasped in laughter and embarrassment. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. Most men do not agree, but we women have our needs too. Do not worry, I will not let any harm come upon you. I promise. Now, we will talk again, but I need to go attend to my guests. The men have a habit of becoming somewhat rowdy on these nights. Lily, come in please!"

The girl that Emily met earlier came hurrying in.

"Please help Miss Genevieve dress, Lily, as we discussed." Pene turned to her friend. "Lily will take care of you, my dear. I will see you in the drawing room shortly, yes?"

"All right." Emily bit her lip as Lily helped her out of her black, high-necked gown. Whatever had she gotten herself into?

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The large drawing room at Pene's, or rather, Madame Sagnier's as she had chosen to be called, was dimly lit and smoky from the cigars being smoked by the men within. Merchants, gentlemen and aristocrats stood about the room, while courtesans dressed in low-cut gowns mingled about, looking to draw a gentleman's custom for the evening.

Above all, an air of expectation hung around the place, for this was one of the rare nights where the Madame had promised there would be a special show for her customers. It was one of ways she used to attract customers. Not that it was really required. Madame Sagnier's courtesans were among the most beautiful and skilled in London, despite the location of her brothel in the more seedy end of London. Men came from all over England to sample the wares of the girls in her care. The Madame made no class distinctions when it came to her customers. As long as they had coin, were clean and behaved with decency, they were admitted. And if they were not, they would be escorted away by the two burly men standing at the entrance to the brothel.

Emily stood uncertainly in the doorway, her heart beating quickly as nerves swept over her, her stomach aching with a mixture of anxiety and excitement. Her eyes swept over the room, widening when she saw a couple in a tight embrace in the corner of the room. A man was clearly ogling the low-cut décolletage of his companion, who was running her fingers over his expensive tweed lapel, while another female nearby was seated on a gentleman's lap, laughing at something he had said. She clearly had no objection to his hand, which was resting on the curve of her hip.

As Emily looked at the many occupants of the room, her gaze was drawn to a man who stood to the side. He was tall, his dark hair short. Aside from being clean-shaven, which was unlike most other men in society, he didn't appear particularly different. Yes, his profile was certainly handsome, but it was the fact that he stood aloof, clearly apart from the rest of the lust driven mass of humanity contained in that noisy, smoky room.

He suddenly turned, as if sensing her gaze, and their eyes met. A jolt of something, the likes of which she had never felt before arced through her, making her hands tighten at her sides. His eyes narrowed, and she felt certain that he knew what she was feeling.

"So, have you seen someone you like?" came Pene's low voice in her ear, making her jump.

"Oh, I… uh…" Emily jerked her eyes up to her friend's, trying to appear as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

It was too late. Pene was already looking in the direction of the dark haired man. "Ah. It seems you have chosen a very interesting gentleman. Come, my dear, let me introduce you to him."

"Chosen? No, I haven't…wait." Emily's plea fell on deaf ears as her very determined friend took her elbow and led her forward to the man who was now watching her with an intensity that took her breath away and made her heart race wildly.

"Aaron, I'd like you to meet Emily."

Emily was unable to move or speak, so close was he to her that she could not mistake the masculine scent of sandalwood and lemon on him. Even such a small intimacy lit something within her that she had long ago forgotten.

"Emily."

The rich, mellow baritone of his voice washed over her, mesmerising her while his eyes drew her even more deeply under his spell. He took her gloved hand and raised it to his lips. Even through the material, the warmth of his lips seared her skin. Her hand trembled. She barely heard Pene excusing herself. She watched as his eyes assessed her.

"You look nervous. Would you prefer me to leave?"

His question startled her. Though not as much as the quiet consideration in his voice. "No. I…" She moistened her lips. Dare she say what was in her heart? But why else had she come here? She didn't want him to leave. This much she knew. She drew in a breath. "I want you." So soft and tentative was her voice that she did not know if he heard her.

Something flashed in his eyes and his hand tightened on hers. "Then come with me."

After a breathless moment, she nodded. Turning, he led her out of the drawing room, where, she knew not. She only knew with certainty that she would remember this evening for the rest of her life.

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**Mmm... what evil designs does Hotch have for Emily? Stay tuned! In the meantime, shoot me a review if you can. I'd love to hear from you :D**


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